Graith had been tending his wheat farm when the news arrived. A dragon had been sighted in the nearby lands. There was to be a hunt. He hadn’t minded all the commotion in the following days, as he was just a farmer. He continued to harvest his crops and prepare his fields for the approaching winter. He had one duty, and that was to continue to provide for his Lord.

But as he moved from one field to the next, news continued to stir. Men started to group in the town, and Graith was starting to become intrigued. Never before had he seen so many men in his small town. He lived on the Lord’s outermost lands where few bothered to traverse. This far out the only visitors were the tax collector and the tradesmen who came by twice a year with the kinds of specialty parts that the local blacksmith, while capable of making them, simply did not have time for.

As he had finished harvesting his fields, the number of men had continued to grow. Graith decided to see what the all the commotion was about. He grabbed his nicest mug, and headed into town for a drink at the pub. Not much larger than a house, with multiple stalls out back and a well out front, the pub was the only place that news seemed to spread in the small community.

While he had never been on the best of terms with his neighbors, Graith didn’t really have a problem with them either. He simply liked to do his job, at his own pace, in his own fields. Now why couldn’t some of those men understand that? Volunteering to help, and then expecting the same in return had never been something that Graith was interested in. Oh, but how his neighbors loved it. They thought he snubbed them after that first year, and in turn left him out of the day to day news.

Having no wife to gossip while doing the washing, or shopping, left Graith at another disadvantage. Another way that his neighbors decided meant he wanted nothing to do with them. Upon entering the pub, many of the locals appeared quite shocked at his appearance. Ignoring them, he sat down at the nearest table with an open seat. It was already occupied by visitors With so many new people in town, the pub was quite full, and the only opening was nearest to the kitchens - which at this time of day were putting of quite a bit of heat. Only a few men sat there.

“Hello, I’m Graith - one of the local farmers. Haven’t seen you lot around here before,” he said while waving a serving girl over to fill his mug. The three other men at his table, an older man, with bent neck but sharp eyes, and two youngsters who looked fresh from their own fields looked up in surprise.

“The three of us have been in town for nearly two weeks!” the younger looking of the two boys said.

“Whatever for?” Graith asked, while trying to get the barmaid back over to order some stew. “I had noticed people arriving, but busy as I’ve been, I didn’t take any notice of how long ago it had been.”

“Well, we’ve been sent by Lord Arish to hunt a dragon,” the older man said.

“What nonsense is this now? A dragon? Never seen one around here before,” Graith said, “Don’t reckon I would recognize one, even if I saw it.”

“Not recognize it? A great flying serpent, all fire and wrath? Death on wings and you wouldn’t recognize it?” The older boy asked bewildered.

“Did I notice you men arriving? How long have you been in town now?” Graith asked again, not remembering that the younger boy had told him how long they had been in town. “What makes you think I would recognize a dragon then?”

“Well,” the older man looked nervous, but continued with what he was saying, “We arrived here almost two weeks back. A couple of months ago, a soldier came through our town looking for recruits. We were told to head here, and to wait for the rest to arrive. We were to gather supplies and weapons and head out next week, scouring all the caves between here and the Eastern Reach for this dragon.”

Graith just didn’t understand. “What’s so special about the dragon? Why hunt it down?”

“Are you serious? It's a danger! A hazard! Takes our livestock, burns our villages! It has to be destroyed,” the younger boy said with vehemence.

“There were villages destroyed?” Graith asked, not remembering hearing news of such.

“Well, not yet. But in the past, other dragons have!” the boy admitted.

“What about the livestock?” Graith asked.

“Huh? Well a few sheep and a cow have been taken,” the other boy said.

“Over the last couple months? That's as many that die from their own stupidity in that amount of time, no real hurt there.” Graith was getting annoyed - all this hullabaloo, for what? A possible threat?

“Look man, dragons are dangerous. They need to die as soon as we know about them. It is your responsibility to your Lord to do so.” The youngster seemed angry at Graith’s lack of fervor.

Graith snorted. “My only responsibilities to Lord Arish are to harvest my crops and pay my taxes. He asks nothing else of me.”

“Bah! We’re good men of our Lord, and we’ll hunt this dragon in his name,” the older man said, dismissing Graith with a wave. At that, the soldiers for hire went back to their meal, ignoring Graith. Graith, on the other hand got up and roamed about the tables, sipping his ale. As he went, increased whispers and rumors about the dragon floated through the air.

“It’s said to be as big as a castle!”

“Fire breather, as hot as any blacksmiths forge!”

“Scales harder than the hardest plate steel, but twice as thick!”

Shouts and boast joined them from those souls who thought that they would be the one to bring down the mighty dragon.

“I’ll land my lance right through its eye! Straight into the brain!”

“I’ll cut off its tail and then its head!”

“I’ll land an arrow in the back of its maw as it tries to breath fire!”

To these boasts Graith just shook his head and continued on. Had he been a younger man, maybe joining a mercenary group might have interested him, but he thought not. He had never wanted to go on adventures or explore before settling down. No, he had grown up on his farm, and harvested wheat his whole life. When his parents had passed, the farm had become his. The only thing of note he had done was gone over finances and found that he had the means to annex two more acres and purchase a new horse.

He was happy with his lifestyle. He worked, he cooked, he slept, and he lived his own simple existence. And that suited him just fine.

That night, after heading home Graith sat down at his hearth. His favorite leather chair, a commodity he had lavished himself with a decade ago, when he had had an especially abundant year faced the fire. He thought about what he had heard today.

A dragon? One hadn’t been seen in decades, not since he was a small boy. He still remembered the feast that had been held by Lord Arish’s father, Lord Derk. It had lasted three days, and his own father had even taken him into Dunlaith to celebrate. While the feast had been a fantastic affair, Graith couldn’t help but think about the poor beast who had died for it to happen. He sighed. He had always wanted to see a dragon, alive, but none had ever flown over his farm.

***

Several weeks later, long after the men had left town, and he had finished harvesting the last of his fields, he went into town again. The pub was empty now, except for the serving girl and the owner. He drank an ale and listened to the fire in the hearth crackle, wondering if the hunt had been successful. He thought not, as there would have been news.

That night he went to bed and dreamed of a dragon.

The dragon was indeed massive, but not as large as some had claimed. It was a dark navy, not black like he had expected. Its wings shimmered in moonlight and Graith couldn’t help but want to touch them. They looked like the finest gossamer. Its head was nearly as tall as his whole body, and he was an impressive six foot two. It had wicked fangs, that looked more than capable of rending a sheep, cow, or even a man, apart in seconds. Tiny pebble scales formed around its nostrils and eyes, gradually getting larger, until by the neck, they were as large as his hand. The scales on its back were as large as the spade of his largest shovel.

It had a crest of horns wreathing its face, a bright white in contrast to the dark scales.  All along its back following its spine were long spikes, which created a crested effect for its whole body. The spikes continued down to its tail, which was curled around its body, not unlike a cat.

But the dragon’s eyes were what captivated Graith. Large and iridescent, the were an icy blue, with slits from top to bottom, again reminding Graith of his barn cats. They held an intelligence Graith didn’t often see, even in men - and a sadness. He reached out wanting to comfort the beast, but as his fingers went to brush the tiny scales of the nearest nostril, he awoke.

He laid in bed for several long minutes, thinking about his dream. Graith was not known for dreaming. In fact, it had been many years since his last one, a fact that simply didn’t bother him. He felt rested in the morning, unhindered by what might have been, or unrealistic fantasies others seemed to dream of.

But why would he be dreaming of a dragon? A sad dragon? Why did he care that it was sad? Not being able to answer these questions, he sat up and scrubbed at his face. It didn’t matter. He got up, bathed, and dressed for the day, and went to the kitchen of his modest home to make breakfast.

After eating, he sat and tried to figure out what he had to do today. He was having a slow morning and just couldn’t seem to keep his mind from wandering back to the dragon he had dreamed of. Finally, he decided that he needed to take stock of his harvest for the year. He had finished his final field the night before and stored it away to dry. He still needed to bundle and transport it all to the wheat grinder, for flour was the true resource that the Lord needed. Graith had a large barn where he kept the wheat, with distinct locations for different harvests, and a place to bundle them and then pack the bundles onto his wagon. He grabbed his ledger and a charcoal stick then headed to the barn. He thought this year might make his top five largest, but he wouldn’t know until he had finished bundling the wheat.

He fed his chickens as he crossed his yard, and setting his ledger aside carefully, pumped water for his horse and cow. Picking the ledger backup he continued on his way. He could see his barn, which resided on the north side of his property, well before he reached it. While not situated for the easiest access from his home, it was centered between his best fields. It also was in the direction of the town. A mahogany from age, the barn was two stories tall, and had large, sliding doors on both ends, and windows propped open along the sides high above. A normal sized door was inset within the larger locked sliding door. Graith opened the small door to enter the barn.

Entering the barn, Graith turned to his immediate left, which was a small office he had built for the exclusive purpose of keeping his past ledgers, and his small safe, which contained his life savings. The barn was dark, with no lanterns to possibly set his precious harvest on fire, but Graith did not need a lantern as he maneuvered around the his office and got the window open. His office faced away from the rising sun, but the window provided enough light for him to see by to get back out and unlock the nearest set of large sliding doors.

He lifted the iron latch and started to slide the door open. As he did so, he heard a slithering sound behind him. Having gotten the door open about two feet wide, he turned to look around his feet for a snake, sometimes they were able to get in from under the floor. He had tried to have the barn build as securely a possible, for rodents eating away at his harvest was bad for his profits. Unable to find a snake, though surely he knew what he had heard - he turned back to the large doors. Now too far apart to push from the middle he grabbed the left one and pulled it open. As he headed to the right door, he heard the slithering sound again, but this time it was accompanied by a sharp tapping noise. Stopping again, he turned to investigate the now illuminated barn. There was nothing on the first floor, but the sound, still audible, was coming from above.

Damn snakes he thought as he went to the nearest ladder and started climbing to the loft. Focused on the rungs before him, he did not immediately see the source of the sound. But as he reached the second floor and stood upright, he did see it.

It was quite hard to miss as it was the midnight blue dragon from his dreams the night before.